


Emergence Exit

by hapakitsune



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Code Name Verity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 15:13:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6056311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hapakitsune/pseuds/hapakitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At night in the twenty-first century, Steve Rogers wakes up from dreams where Bucky is dead and lying in a pool of his own blood. It’s as vivid as reality, and for good reason: it isn’t a dream, but a memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emergence Exit

**Author's Note:**

> I was digging around my WIP files and rediscovered this which has been sitting around for about a year, so I finished it up and dumped it here because it feels good to get things out of the WIP folder honestly. (I really miss LJ amnesty posts.) This was inspired by the (excellent) book _Code Name Verity_ , and one scene in particular. You'd probably still be able to enjoy the book, but if you haven't read it, this fic would definitely spoil major parts. 
> 
> I didn't use archive warnings for a reason. Feel free to hit me up on [tumblr](http://hkafterdark.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/hkafterdark) if you have specific questions about the contents of this fic.

At night in the twenty-first century, Steve Rogers wakes up from dreams where Bucky is dead and lying in a pool of his own blood. Face-down, filthy, hands in shackles. It’s as vivid as reality, and for good reason: it isn’t really a dream, but a memory. 

When those dreams come upon him, returning to sleep is impossible. He knows by now that if he tries, all he’ll see is Bucky’s face. He goes for a run, if it’s light enough, or to the gym to work at the Kevlar-lined punching bags SHIELD requisitions have bought for him. Sometimes, if he’s lucky, Natasha is awake too, for reasons she never shares, and the two of them spar without exchanging a word. 

Steve prefers to lose himself in the rhythms of his body. When he does that, he has no time to think, or regret.

* * *

_…Barnes disappeared in the winter of 1944, and his dog tags were recovered five months later. The exact circumstances of Barnes’ death remains unknown to this day. Even after the declassification of SSR’s files from WWII, information remains scarce. It’s a sharp contrast to the vast amount of information about the other Howling Commandos, but the curators have done an admirable job of bridging the gap with an interactive display of Barnes-inspired media from over the years. From the wildly inaccurate television portrayal in the radio drama of the late 1940s to the more recent biopic filmed in 1993, starring Keanu Reeves, there is a mystique to Barnes that nearly equals that of Rogers. A worthy companion indeed.  
_  
Washington Post Review of the Smithsonian’s _Captain America: The Living Legend and Symbol of Courage_

* * *

Here is a list of things Steve tries not to think about on a daily basis:

1\. Bucky  
2\. How Bucky died  
3\. Peggy  
4\. How Peggy is doing now  
5\. Jim, and Gabe, and Dum Dum, and Dernier, and Falsworth, and everyone he knew in 1945, now either dead or close to it  
6\. Why he was allowed to survive  
7\. If he deserved to survive

The SHIELD-mandated therapist calls this _avoidance_. Steve calls it _necessary_.

But that’s the thing about the future: they’re all obsessed with the past. _Tell me about the Commandos_ , people say, or _What happened to Bucky,_ or _How the hell did you survive the ice?_ He has a half-dozen calls from historians and writers every day. That’s the only reason he knows about the document release before it happens. A professor of American Studies at Georgetown got a tip—the government will be releasing several thousand pages of previously withheld documents from WWII. Steve’s war. 

“I was hoping you might talk to me about them,” the professor says. She sounds nice, nicer than a lot of the others that call. Still, Steve isn’t really up for reliving that at the moment. 

“I haven’t seen the documents, so I can’t really comment,” Steve says. “If I think I can help, I’ll be sure to call you back.”

He’s pretty sure she knows he’s lying from the way she says, “Thanks,” voice already defeated. Steve understands their fascination. A lot can be learned from history. But there are some things worth leaving behind.

* * *

_…Among the documents in the massive release is a previously unknown document handwritten by James Barnes, member of the Howling Commandos. It was recovered from the ruins of a secret Nazi prison where they interrogated spies found on their territory. Following his capture in the winter of 1944, Barnes appears to have been held for several months before his record abruptly ceases. The account has been called a confession, and is perhaps evidence of surrender to the enemy._

__New York Times, _Released Documents Casts Doubts on Wartime Hero_

* * *

The day the documents are released, Steve runs fifteen miles. 

When he returns to SHIELD to shower and change for the train home, there is a thick folder sitting at the desk that is nominally his. He opens it up curiously and sees a photo of Bucky, an ancient one, and beneath that, pages and pages of hand-writing, scanned and copied. Someone must have thought he’d prefer having Bucky’s account in a physical form, not on the tablet given to him by Tony Stark. 

He shuts the folder and takes his shower. 

On his way out, he hesitates. There is very little the account could tell him that he does not already know. He knows that Bucky would not have surrendered, or collaborated. He knows that Bucky was tortured following his capture, and that he was interrogated about Steve. That intel had been known; the Nazis wanted Steve to know they had his friend. They hoped he would do something stupid. 

He had. He had waited too long. 

He takes the folder anyway.

* * *

My name is James Buchanan Barnes. There's no point in lying about that. You got that much out of me in my interrogation and it probably wouldn’t take you too long to figure it out anyway now that you figured out the dog tags I had weren’t mine. My name is James Barnes, but most people called me Bucky because it's kind of weird that my folks named me after a president, and I was born in 1916 in Brooklyn

This guy you got guarding me, Heinrich? He's telling me to get to the point, but I'm telling you, there's no way to tell you about Captain America except to go the long way around, so I'm going the long way around. You're gonna have to accept that, pal. 

Where was I? 

Right, Brooklyn. Now I don't know how much you know about Brooklyn or New York, but I gotta tell you we weren't the richest of the bunch, but we weren't too bad off either. There were four of us in one lousy apartment, which stunk, and down the hall was this skinny little blond kid and his mother, and that was Steve Rogers. 

Perking up now, aren't you, Heinrich?

Look, I don't know what secrets you want me to tell you. I wasn't around when Steve got turned into Captain America, and even if I was I wouldn't be able to tell you anything about it. That stuff's all way over my head so I don't know what you're expecting, really. Want me to tell you what his favorite food is? His mom's cabbage, God knows why. I can tell you the first girl he kissed—Anna Hegel from school. Or rather, the first girl that kissed him. But what does that MATTER? You've already gotten me to cough up more than I thought I ever would.

My arm hurts. Can't you give me some more of that morphine?

* * *

TRANSCRIPT FROM SENATE HEARING ON WWII DOCUMENT RELEASE

SENATOR JOHNSON: Mr. Rogers, what did you know about Mr. Barnes’s capture? 

CAPTAIN ROGERS: It’s in the report, sir. 

SENATOR JOHNSON: Why don’t you pretend we haven’t read it.

CAPTAIN ROGERS: We—the Howling Commandos—were on a mission in Germany. We were assigned to capture Armin Zola, a scientist who worked for Johann Schmidt and HYDRA. We infiltrated the train he was traveling on. We met armed resistance, and during the struggle, Bucky—sorry, James Barnes was knocked from the train. When we went back to look for him, he was gone. A few weeks later, we received intelligence that the Germans had an American spy that met his description. He wasn’t a spy, of course, but he might as well have been to them. That was all we knew.

SENATOR JOHNSON: You didn’t attempt to rescue him?

CAPTAIN ROGERS: We were in the process of planning an operation to retrieve Barnes when it became necessary to take Schmidt’s base in order to prevent him from launching multiple attacks upon American cities. As you know, sir, I went down in Schmidt’s plane following that. I am unaware of what else might have transpired in my absence. 

SENATOR JOHNSON: Are you sure you aren’t holding anything back, Mr. Rogers?

CAPTAIN ROGERS: Yes, sir.

* * *

You know, maybe it was smart of you to say I should write this stuff down instead of telling it to you straight out. There’s something about putting pencil to paper that makes you want to tell the truth, don’t you think? And it’s more entertaining to write it than it is to talk to you. Yeah, I’m talking about you, Heinrich. Ask your friends. I bet they’ll tell you the same. 

So here’s the thing. Steve is a good soldier. He follows orders. If you’re hoping that he’ll risk everything to come get me, you’ve got another think coming. I’m not a necessary asset. Sure, I’m a decent sniper, but we’ve got others like that in our company. No, I’m not telling you their names. My point is that sure, I may have grown up with the guy, but Steve is a soldier and he knows there’s no tactical advantage to coming to my rescue. So if you were hoping to serve up Captain America to Schmidt on a silver platter, I’m sorry, but it ain’t happening. You’d be better off trying to capture Churchill. Say, you aren’t trying to capture Churchill, are you? Because I’d actually help with that. Might be fun. 

Okay, okay, Franz is glaring at me. I don’t know if that’s his actual name, but since he won’t give me one, that’s what I’m calling him. You really didn’t need to set someone to watch me. The pencil you gave me this time isn’t nearly sharp enough to break the skin. 

What you really want to know, or what you keep asking anyway, is how we know each other. Well, I told you we grew up together. It’s true. Steve was always the skinniest thing, prone to getting sick, but he never let that slow him down. I’ve never met a more stubborn punk in my entire life. He was hacking out a lung with the flu once and kept trying to lift boxes down at the warehouse with his skinny arms, never mind he was supposed to be there to take inventory. That’s what makes him a good soldier, too. He’s stubborn. 

Anyway, when his mom died, he moved in with me. We did all right for ourselves, or as good as two kids could do, but we were always different people. I liked to go out dancing with the girls and having a good time. Used to help smuggle moonshine to get around the temperance folks that were still around. Steve was always at the movies, you know, or painting in the room. He wasn’t half-bad. Could maybe have gotten a job with the WPA if the war hadn’t started. 

I bet you don’t even know what the WPA is. Well, I’m not going to explain it. You can ask someone. Maybe someone around here keeps up with American news. 

So I don’t know, if you’re hoping to trap Captain America, maybe put out some paints, or set up a big movie theater. Seems like the best you can hope for, really.

* * *

_…Among the nearly two-hundred handwritten pages are numerous anecdotes from Barnes and Rogers’ childhood together. While many are concerned with the military implications of the account, others are thrilled at having a source for information about life during the 1930s-40s as well a second perspective on the early life of Steve Rogers. When asked for comment on Barnes, SHIELD public relations representing Steve Rogers declined to answer and requested the press respect his privacy._

_“As you can imagine, the recovery of this document has been very emotional for all of us at SHIELD and everyone who is close to Captain Rogers,” the spokesperson said. “We greatly appreciate your restraint and understanding at this time.”_

Washington Post, _Barnes Papers Reveal Captain America’s Early Life_

* * *

You keep asking me questions about Steve, Steve, Steve, like knowing about him will somehow let you figure out how to beat him. But that’s not how it works. He isn’t just a shield and a pretty face. He’s a punk, all the way down to his core, and you can’t fight someone like that. They don’t have anything to lose. 

That’s the thing about Steve people forget now. He wasn’t always Captain America. Me, I’m the only one in our unit that knew him before. They all know him as the crazy son of a bitch that charges into firefights headfirst. (Okay, maybe that part has always been the same.) But he wasn’t always this tall, broad fellow that he is now. I mean sure, he acted bigger than he was. Not in the way bullies do, but when he was sure he had the right of something, he could seem ten times bigger than he was. That’s what the serum did. It let him be who he was inside. 

Let me tell you a story about Steve. We were kids, at the same school, and we knew each other from the apartment building. We didn’t talk much at first, though, not until I mouthed off to some kids older than me. I never had much self-preservation. Guess you’ve figured out that much. 

The point is that Steve found them pounding on me behind the school, and he waded in to stop them. He weighed maybe sixty pounds, taking on guys probably twice that. He never even blinked. He’s either stupid or brave. Maybe a little of both.

After that, we were the best of friends.

* * *

Sam goes with him to the Senate hearings. 

Steve tries to tell him he doesn’t have to—they’ve only known each other a few weeks—but Sam insists. “They’re asking you to relive the trauma of the war,” he says. “I know you’re not one for coming to the meetings, but there should be someone there who understands.” 

Natasha comes too, sometimes, often sitting at the very back. He still isn’t sure if he totally trusts her after the Lemurian Star. She is highly capable and skilled, funny, even, but he doesn’t know what her agenda is. He knows she reports on his behavior to Fury. He knows she is given her own missions separate from Steve, and he knows that’s her job, but that amount of secrecy gets to be a habit. 

The Senate hearings, such as they are, come to a screeching halt when the Winter Soldier attacks Nick Fury. They have more pressing concerns then, and Steve—well, he’s a fugitive of the law.

* * *

I don’t know exactly what happened to Steve. I saw him before I went overseas and he was the same skinny punk I’d always known. He’d just tried to enlist for about the fiftieth time and been rejected again because of his health. 

He doesn’t talk about it. I know Dr. Erskine died, but that’s it. They pumped him with some kind of serum, and suddenly he’s a foot taller, more muscular than a Roman god, and basically invulnerable. Don’t test that.

Anyway, something about him did change. He had more friends. Used to be I was his only option, that was how I got to be so close. But once he was this big handsome guy, everyone wanted a piece of him. He liked the attention—who wouldn’t? Everyone wanted to be his friend and me, he knew me. I was old news. 

I’m not saying this to make you think badly of him, all right, because I’m telling you, he’s a good guy. I’m the one that’s a piece of shit. Once he saw there were other people in the world he could be friends with, what did he need with me? Can’t say I blame him. I’d have dumped me too. Look at me now, telling you everything I know. Hey, if I tell you what I know about him touring with the troop entertainers, will you give me some more of that kielbasa from the other night?

* * *

CLASSIFIED REPORT—SSR—March 11, 1945  
SERGEANT JAMES MORITA, HOWLING COMMANDOS  
OPERATION: PACKAGE RETRIEVAL

At the beginning of the month, the army received intelligence suggesting that Sgt. James Barnes was alive and had been captured by enemy forces. The Howling Commandos began to plan an operation in order to retrieve him. Our intelligence suggested Barnes had been taken to a secure prison where enemy spies were interrogated. There is no sign of HYDRA involvement in the prison, so it is possible they did not have full knowledge of their source. 

The facility is disguised as a supply depot, and the Germans use supply trucks to move prisoners. Allied intelligence had the facility under surveillance for some time in the hopes that destroying it might cripple the German supply line, but as it is deep behind the German line, that mission was held off for later. A small team such as the Commandos might be able to infiltrate the area around the facility, but getting in and out would be difficult and risky. Our original plan was to wait for the next supply shipment, take the truck, and infiltrate the facility that way. Our plans were forced to change when our spies learned that the prisoners were being moved. 

There were thirteen prisoners in all, some French resistance, some American, and a few Brits. They were moved in a convoy of armored vehicles. We followed them until they took a rest so the prisoners could relieve themselves. Cpt. Rogers took the first shot, after which we followed suit. Five of the German guards were killed. Another three were injured, two of whom surrendered when we made ourselves known. Two of the Allied prisoners were able to get free and make a run for cover, but the rest were hurried back into the convoy by the guards and took off. Sgt. Barnes was hit by a stray bullet in the firefight and was killed. Leaving with the Allied soldiers and the prisoners of war before reinforcements could be sent was a priority, so we were forced to leave Sgt. Barnes’s body behind. When we returned, we were unable to locate his body or his dog tags.

* * *

On a deserted street in DC, the remnants of battle strewn around them, Steve looks out at the Winter Soldier and his stomach drops like a stone. He knows that face. He knows those eyes, that jaw, that mouth. 

“Bucky?” Steve asks. 

It wouldn’t be the first time he thought he saw Bucky. When he first woke up, he spent most days thinking he’d seen Bucky out of the corner of his eye. If he had survived crashing a plane into the arctic, maybe some miracle would have brought Bucky back to him. And then night would come, and he would remember turning over Bucky’s body and the blood, the blood on his hands and uniform and the ruined mess of Bucky’s shoulder, and he would remember that there was no way, _no way_ Bucky was alive. 

The Winter Soldier stares at him, and there’s something—something in his eyes like remembrance. Like he’s instinctively reacting to the name, but doesn’t know why. 

“Who the hell is Bucky?” he asks.

* * *

TRANSCRIPT FROM SENATE HEARING ON WWII DOCUMENT RELEASE

SENATOR WARNER: Captain Rogers, can you please share with the committee what you knew about Sergeant Barnes’s capture?

CAPTAIN ROGERS: Buc—Sergeant Barnes was officially declared MIA once he missed the rendezvous point following the mission to capture Armin Zola. We had not recovered his—his body, so we could not declare him dead. Several weeks later, spies reported that there were rumors of an American being held by the Nazis. We had no confirmation that it was Sergeant Barnes until nearly a month later. 

SENATOR WARNER: What did you do then?

CAPTAIN ROGERS: We had to be careful. We knew that it was likely to be a trap, so we took our time evaluating the facility and deciding on a rescue mission. Unfortunately, the Nazis had decided that Sergeant Barnes was no longer an asset. He, along with several other captured Allied soldiers, was to be transported to a prisoner of war camp. As a last resort, we ambushed the convoy. We managed to rescue two of the Allied prisoners. Sergeant Barnes did not make it. 

SENATOR WARNER: Captain Rogers, how did Sergeant Barnes die?

CAPTAIN ROGERS: He was caught in the crossfire, ma’am.

SENATOR WARNER: I’m sorry, Captain. You have my condolences. 

CAPTAIN ROGERS: Thank you, ma’am.

* * *

“I watched him die,” Steve says to his hands as Sam helps Natasha staunch the blood flowing from her wound. “I _watched_.”

“You said he seemed like he didn’t know you,” Sam says. “Is it possible you’re wrong?”

“No,” Steve says. “It was him.”

“From what I know of the Winter Soldier, it’s possible,” Natasha says. Her voice is remarkably even, but tight with pain. “Maybe they found a way to preserve him this whole time.”

“But he died,” Steve says. “I made sure.”

At that, both of them look at him, eyes narrowed. But that’s when one of the guards takes out the other, and pulls off her helmet to reveal herself as Maria Hill, and they have more pressing things to discuss.

* * *

I hear you’re thinking of moving me soon. What, my information isn’t good enough? Don’t like to know that Steve Rogers has a serious sweet tooth and has no sweetheart that I know of? Unless you count the gal from headquarters, a WAC that planted one on him. He likes blondes, I can tell you that. 

Here’s the truth: even if you kill him, you won’t defeat him. You don’t understand the kind of man he is. You don’t know what his mere existence has done. He’s more than a man, he’s a hero, and not a hero like a war hero. He’s a hero like Hercules. Mythical. Strike him down, a hundred more will rise in his memory to avenge him. 

Do you know what the truth is? We’re going to defeat you, and it’s because of men like Steve. It’s because of a scrawny kid from Brooklyn who decided to stand up to people twice his size to save a stranger. People like that, they change people around them. Maybe once you were selfish and greedy, but suddenly you’re shown everything you could be. Everything you should be. We have people like that, people who want to help for no other reason than because they can. And your lot, well. You’re just greedy, and cruel, and in the end that will defeat you. Because there’ll be no one to save you. You’ve burned all your bridges and there’s nowhere left for you to ask for help. This is the end of the line for you. I just hope I’m there to watch you burn.

* * *

“He isn’t the same person you remember,” Sam says to Steve. He had been quiet during most of the discussion for the practicalities of their plan to take down SHIELD, but Steve had felt his eyes on him. “He isn’t the kind of guy you save anymore. He’s the kind that you put down.”

“I can’t do that,” Steve says. “I can’t watch him die again.”

Sam doesn’t say anything for a moment, watching Steve with those too-knowing eyes. “Steve,” he says finally. “How did Bucky die?”

* * *

They had shadowed the convoy for half a day. Jim had marked the place on the route where they were most like to stop for a rest, and he and Duggan had gone on ahead to secure the spot for the rest of them. It was, of course, highly defensible, tricky to get to on foot. Steve was the one who went up the tree to look through his scope as the convoy stopped and the guards brought out the prisoners to relieve themselves. Their hands and feet were chained together, a smart move, and it would be tricky to get them before the guards thought to shoot them. 

Steve was sure he hadn’t made a sound, but Bucky looked up sharply when Steve lifted the rifle to his shoulder. His eyes searched the trees, and for a moment Steve was sure Bucky was looking at him. Steve thought of those nights when it seemed like Bucky could see in the dark. When Bucky’s hearing seemed just as good as his. What _had_ Zola done to him all those months ago? What was Bucky becoming?

“Hey,” Bucky said, loud enough to carry to Steve’s perch. “Where are we going? You still haven’t said.”

One of the guards cuffed Bucky roughly around the head and barked at him in German. Bucky rolled his eyes and lifted his chained hands. “What’s the worst you can do to me?”

_Torture,_ Steve thought. Torture and experimentation and worse.What if they found out that Bucky had been one of Zola’s? What if Bucky was retaken by HYDRA?

“This is the end of the line, pal,” Bucky called, voice remarkably even. “For you and for me.”

Steve’s finger tensed on the trigger of the riffle. _I’m with you till the end of the line_. Bucky always said that, always said if he wanted anyone with him when he died, he wanted it to be Steve. 

The guard was whispering to Bucky, and through his scope, Steve saw that his face was creased with rage. Steve had never been as good a sniper as Bucky. But he knew how to take a shot. He rested Bucky’s gun on the branch of a tree and took aim. 

The guard next to Bucky dropped. Around Steve, the other Commandos burst into life, exchanging fire with the guns as the prisoners fell to their knees and tried to protect themselves. One of the guards, a tall burly fellow, had the presence of mind to haul the prisoners up as a human shield. Another started dragging struggling prisoners back into the truck. One caught Bucky, who thrashed out, managed to get himself free, and dragged himself upright. 

“You hear me?” Bucky screamed. The guard was getting back to his feet, hand on his pistol. “You gotta be with me at the end of the line.” He lifted his shackled hands and tapped his shoulder. _Right here._

And then Steve understood what Bucky was asking. His ears rang, and for a moment he thought he might vomit, or worse. But the guard was reaching for Bucky, and this time, he got a good enough grip that Bucky couldn’t break free. Bucky kicked out desperately, clawing at the guard’s arm. 

“Steve!” Bucky yelled. 

He couldn’t think about what he was about to do. He couldn’t let himself think about that. Imagine this was just anyone. Eyes closed. Don’t think.

Steve pulled the trigger.

* * *

“Afterwards, there wasn’t much to do,” Steve says quietly. “We went to retrieve the surviving guards and prisoners, but Bucky was dead already. We checked. No pulse that we could tell. He was unresponsive.”

Sam is silent, whether with disgust or sympathy, Steve doesn’t know. Steve musters up an attempt at a smile and says, “So you see why I can’t let him die again. I owe him.”

After a moment, Sam claps his shoulder. “I understand,” he says. “We’ll save him. I promise.”

* * *

To: Maria Hill  
From: Sharon Carter  
Re: Project Winter’s Thaw

Steve and Sam have located the Winter Soldier. They will be bringing him to headquarters on a quinjet. We will need to have the deprogramming suite ready. If that is not enough, we may have to ask Wanda for her help, although I still think there are too many variables involved in her abilities. 

This will be a media relations nightmare, so I advise we keep the information on Barnes’s recovery an internal secret for as long as possible. Need-to-know only. The moment word gets out that he has been located, he’s going to be hauled before a senate hearing about the papers found in last year’s document release, and the longer we can avoid that the better. 

Also, who came up with this operation's name? Couldn't we think of anything better?

* * *

The first day Steve is allowed in to see Bucky again, they don’t say much of anything. Bucky is still hazy, and Steve isn’t sure what to say, so they watch baseball on the flatscreen television in Bucky’s room. Steve tries not to look at Bucky’s shoulder, where beneath the metal of his arm he can see the radiating scar tissue from where his rifle round entered Bucky’s skin. Bucky catches him at it once and gives him a little smile. 

“Got a cool toy out of it,” he says, lifting the arm. 

Steve fails miserably at smiling back. 

As the days go by, they slowly get to talking. They compare notes on the future, complain about the Dodgers moving, talk about how different Brooklyn is. Bucky’s deprogramming didn’t wipe away the memories of what he’d done as the Winter Soldier, which has its upsides and its downsides. Sometimes he can’t take whatever is playing inside his head, and he’ll retreat, going silent and distant. Times like those Steve aches for everything that Bucky has been through.

“It isn’t your fault,” Bucky says once. “If you hadn’t shot me, they would have dragged me to a camp, tortured me, maybe killed me anyway. Might have ended up the same either way.”

“I should have saved you,” Steve says. “If I had tried harder—”

Bucky lays his hand over Steve’s—his metal hand. “Stop. Why don’t you ask me whatever it is you really want to know?”

* * *

Here are five important things Bucky left out of his account: 

1\. Steve’s first kiss only happened because Bucky was there to encourage it.  
2\. As soon as Louise was gone, shaking her head and saying Steve kissed like a wet fish, Bucky had said, “Well, I guess I’ll have to teach you, then.”  
3\. And it was Bucky who was Steve’s second kiss.  
4\. And his third.  
5\. And until Peggy, he was Steve’s only kiss.

Back then they had kept themselves a secret, safe from the world. They had loved other people, as Steve had loved Peggy with all his heart, but at the end of the day they always came back to each other. Steve had hoped that Peggy would understand that, or that she would welcome Bucky too, but that didn’t end up mattering so much, not with how things happened. 

When Bucky had died—no. When Steve had killed Bucky, he had done so only because Bucky had asked. Because they had agreed that they were with each other until the end. “If it comes to that, don’t let them take me,” Bucky said, “and I won’t let them take you.” 

Better dead than a traitor. Better to die by the hand of someone who loves you than an enemy. That’s what they had thought, only neither of them had ever considered that the other one would have to keep on living. Someone always has to pay the price. 

The released confession—Bucky’s statement—at first Steve hadn’t read it, horror-filled at the idea. But then, when he had finally opened it, he discovered that Bucky had bent the truth, kept things back. Let it seem like he was opening his soul, when he was still hiding the core truths of him, and Steve, and everything about them. 

He had asked for his death to save them. To keep protecting Steve, even until the end.

* * *

The next time Steve visits, he brings with him his bound copy of Bucky’s confession. He sets it down on the table beside Bucky and sits, crossing his arms. 

“What the hell is that?” Bucky asks. “Going to read to me?”

“The first girl I ever kissed wasn’t named Anna, she was named Louise,” Steve says. “You know that, because you were there.”

Bucky doesn’t say a word, just goes very still and looks at Steve with startled eyes.

“And I did tell you about Erskine, and the serum,” Steve says. “And you didn’t tell them anything about Peggy, or you. You told them I didn’t have any sweethearts.”

“So what?” Bucky asks finally. 

“So you lied.” Steve pushes the papers forward, watches Bucky’s eyes flick down to them, then up, almost guiltily. “They asked you to write your confession and you lied to them.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says. “Of course I did. What was I supposed to do, let them know how to hurt you?”

“They already had you,” Steve says. “They were doing a pretty good job at that.”

“Yeah, and if they’d known the truth—” Bucky falters. “I couldn’t let them know,” he says eventually. “About how much I cared about you. They would have used it against me, or you. There was no hiding who I was, but I could pretend. At least you would be safe.”

“Bucky,” Steve says quietly. He leans over the bed, rests his hand against the place where metal meets skin, and kisses him like he used to, with all the affection and fear and longing in his body. After a moment, Bucky kisses back.

“I was a coward,” Bucky says when Steve pulls back. “I couldn’t bring myself to end it, but I could lie.” His mouth twists. “I was always a better liar than you.”

Steve cups Bucky’s face, rough with stubble but so familiar. “You’re the bravest person I know,” he says quietly. “You always were.”

“Hell, now you’re making me blush,” Bucky says. “Steve. It was worth it, all right? You survived. You stopped Schmidt. You saved so many people. If they had gotten me to that prison camp, there’s no telling what they would have gotten out of me.”

“But look at what they did to you,” Steve says. He runs his fingers along Bucky’s scar, feeling where it has started to fade back into his skin. “Bucky, what they made you do—”

“Yeah, well,” Bucky says. “Best laid plans, and all that.” He pushes himself upright and takes Steve’s hand, pulling it away from his shoulder. “I’m here now.”

* * *

_…Though both Barnes and Rogers have declined to speak to the_ Times, _Senator Oliva Warner (D-NY) says that both will be in attendance at the hearings this fall when Congress is in session._

_“There are still many unanswered questions about Sergeant Barnes’ time as a prisoner of war,” Senator Warner said through a spokeswoman. “Due to the sensitive nature of the hearings, they will be closed to the public pending any further information.”_

_Barnes and Rogers remain elusive, though there have been reported sightings of them in Brooklyn and Lower Manhattan. Have you seen them? Send us a picture if you have!_

Oh No They Didn’t, _Where in the World is Captain America?  
_

* * *

Steve still dreams sometimes of Bucky’s blood on his hands, of kneeling by his still body. But when he wakes now, Bucky is beside him, more often than not also awake from Steve’s movements in bed. In the dark, Bucky will reach out, resting his hand on Steve’s hip or thigh, and Steve will turn to trace the scars along Bucky’s shoulder. 

“I’m here,” Bucky says, and Steve echoes him until they’re sure enough to sleep again.


End file.
